It’s not even 6:00 in the morning yet but already we’ve missed the sun coming up over the horizon. Time to hit the road for a repeat of some of yesterday. Our motel is located right next to Route 120, also known as Tioga Road, making our next move very convenient.

Up here by the park entrance, the sun is yet to rise, but if you look over my shoulder you can see it on the mountain tops. Yesterday was so beautiful we are throwing caution to the wind, and instead of going home and arriving at a reasonable time, we decided to drive back up the Tioga Pass to catch a few more glimpses of a side of Yosemite we’d not seen before.

Tenaya Lake looks quite different in the early morning, not better, not worse, just different and still magnificent.

We are venturing further into the park than we were able to yesterday as we were losing daylight.

Siesta Lake was as far as we were willing to go, and we accepted that we couldn’t do it all even though we try. Just seeing upper Yosemite in this light has made our detour worth everything we have to give up in sleep.

Back at our car, a proud marmot was posing with its scat that, in its world, must be a super load otherwise, why the staredown?

The view from Olmsted Point offers a look at Half Dome that I’m guessing few ever get to see based on how light the traffic up here yesterday and this morning was, it can easily be surmised that the majority of park visitors only go to Yosemite Valley.

Another view from Olmsted Point.

Our last encounter of greenery meeting water before we descend into the desert and its harsh environment.

Viewed from here, driving over that scree slope looks sketchy.

Hey anyone up for a swim in the salty water of Mono Lake with the brine shrimp and blackflies? Of course, Caroline would be interested in making her way through the swarming critters both in the water and on its surface; she’s kind of a badass in that way.

Welcome to one of America’s largest concentration camps from World War II. This is the Manzanar War Relocation Center, where a lot of Japanese American citizens ended up, but this was only one of the ten camps in America. In total, our country rounded up 120,000 Japanese and their families, removing them from their communities, land, property, and businesses and fully uprooting their faith in the American system of justice.

It was December 1942 when Edward R. Murrow told the American people that the German concentration camps were, more precisely, extermination camps, and yet since February of the same year, the United States was operating concentration camps of their own. While it could be argued that the American position of incarcerating these fellow Americans didn’t result in their deaths, the xenophobia that gives rise to these types of actions are the flames of hatred that, once unleashed, can be difficult to extinguish.

The rusty nails hammered into our freedoms, into the hearts of a loyal citizenry, into our constitution are then pulled out and left in the sun as grim reminders that our sense of right and wrong can be unpredictable and shifted like so much sand in the wind. When we institutionalize hate as we have for Native Americans, African Americans, Jewish Americans, Muslim Americans, Gay Americans, Mexican Americans, Irish Americans, and any of the other ethnic and religious groups that we as a society have sanctioned hatred for, we are not being the best we can be. We descend into petty small-mindedness and debase what we claim to stand for. We are not inclusive; we are elitists who have lost their way.

While the barracks and the majority of the manifestations that America operated a concentration camp system were bulldozed, there are still stark reminders that we have a long way to go before we can lay claim to operating a moral compass that can guide others. How is it in the 21st century that we are still talking about civil liberties, equal rights, educational disparities that appear to be institutional and biased against people of color, a correctional system that also displays an ugly bias, and the list goes on and on? While the barracks are gone now, ask a Native American how different their reservation is from a camp in the desert that took away the rights of a people, ask a Mexican American in hiding from immigration authorities how free they are beyond picking our food or cleaning our yards to travel, or ask a gay couple how comfortable they are to hold hands in public? Hell, a woman cannot even breastfeed her child in public without raising the ire of the intolerant mob.

Our country is vast; its founding documents are inclusive and welcoming. Yet our actions of isolationism scream louder than the words so eloquently placed on that parchment. There is room for all in America, but our fear of others and our disdain for those falling outside of conformity are a weakness that will continue to hamper our future until the time comes when we can confront our stupidity for what it is.

The deep-fried zucchini was pretty good, but the Mexican food was HORRIBLE.

This is one of those signs that let you know just how big America is. Never in Europe would you be warned that you will not find services for the next 162 kilometers; as a matter of fact, you can’t drive 15 km in Europe without running into another village.

The sun sets on the West and our Independence Day adventure. Tomorrow, that very same sun will return, creating a new dawn, but too many of us will not wake up to this idea of reinvention and new adventures; we will instead drag the same old version of ourselves out of the previous day. Race past your habits and desire to stay in place and get out on the road, both in reality and metaphorically. The world is ready to be embraced and experienced, even if it’s in fits and spurts that don’t allow for total immersion. Better to have tasted the victory of knowledge and beauty than to be a prisoner of an outmoded construct of physical and mental stagnation.

When we get home, we’ll pay for these long days as we collapse in exhaustion, but for now, we just keep going. This morning, we were out of the motel and on the road by 6:15. We are on the approach to Lassen National Park.

It is this stuff here that delays us getting places in a timely manner, as flowers are a powerful attraction and scream at us to stop and take photos. While we’re in the throes of quickly stopping the car, jumping out, grabbing the photo, and getting going again, it seems rational and perfectly reasonable to think, “What the heck, it’ll only take a minute,” except these minutes add up and it’s probably never as fast as I hope. Part of the allure of these races to get out and around is to capture enough elements that when we look back at the visual arch of the trip, we will be inspired to visit some of these spots again or if there was an abundance of mediocrity we can relegate that corner to the pile of “not interested.”

This is Hat Lake and one of the first big indicators that there’s more to this park than the southernmost active volcano known as Mount Lassen, which is the main draw for our visit today.

Kings Creek runs through this meadow; unfortunately, we weren’t prepared to do the same. Next time in Lassen, remember to bring waders. And this is how it happens for us to be drawn back to a place; these beautiful impressions continue adding up until we reach astonishment levels. This will be accompanied by a bit of sadness that we weren’t able to fully explore this meadow, but then again how in the world does anyone on a five-day trip that takes in Bonnie & Clyde’s Death Car, Devils Hole Pupfish in a remote corner of Death Valley, Ash Meadows Refuge, the Rhyolite ghost town, fireworks in Lakeview, Oregon, Crater Lake National Park, Lava Beds National Monument, Lassen National Park, Yosemite National Park, Lake Tahoe (coming up later today), Mono Lake and Manzanar National Historic Site (giving away where we’re going tomorrow) and not need to be quick about it?

This is Mount Lassen, and while there’s a path to its peak, this will not be the trip where we make that hike.

Lake Helen alone could be a great reason to visit Lassen. Fortunately, there are 1000 other compelling reasons to be here, too.

The terrain is varied and beautifully seductive. Our three-hour bullet tour can never do this park justice, but at least now we know that if we planned a couple of longer hikes here, the time spent would be well worth the effort.

Visiting the Sulphur Works hydrothermal area is an immediate reminder to your nose that this is a geologically alive area. Volcanic activity has been a large part of Lassen’s past and could still be a part of its future.

Gases and boiling water suggest something is cooking below. Mount Lassen’s lava dome is the largest on earth and is definitely still active, with its last eruption occurring back in March 1915.

Here at the southern entrance is the sign we’d been looking for on our way into the park this morning, hence why it’s being shown as we exit the park.

What a great day to be out driving in northeastern California.

Lake Tahoe is a beautiful place, but with the bumper-to-bumper traffic in town, this is coming off the list for a return visit around any holiday weekend. I know, famous last words.

The mountains of the western United States are a treasure comparable to the extraordinary beauty found in the Alps of Europe. It’s kind of funny how when we are not among these marvels, they are “out of sight, out of mind,” but when we are here, I want to remain in their towering stature and bask in their glory, I’m guessing that’s how many visitors feel after visiting this vast land that reaches into the sky and our hearts. Again and again, I should return to these mountains and the memory of John Muir, who not only founded the Sierra Club but worked tirelessly to protect hundreds if not thousands of square miles that include Yosemite, the Sequoias, Redwoods, and uncountable locations in between.

To those who drag heavy machines and asphalt out to the sides of mountains, taming the land so we might cruise along the edge of a place without needing to ride a horse and spend valuable time that is in short supply: I thank you all.

I should probably link higher resolution images to these panoramas as they are much better storytellers; when you can see the details that we saw that day and that are still present in the photos, maybe I’ll get to that task one day.

That’s Mono Lake in the distance, and we need to decide if we should drive down there or not.

Nobody needed to twist our rubber arms as the car seemed to have a mind of its own and pulled us in closer until we were right next to the shore. Who would have ever dreamed that we would visit two endorheic places in one long weekend? Endorheic basins or lakes (such as Crater Lake) have no outlet, and while Crater Lake is always being replenished by a lot of rainfall and up to 44 feet of snow per year, Mono Lake is a saline body of water similar to the Great Salt Lake in Utah and the Salton Sea in Southern California.

Once again, we are on the move, hunting for a perfect sunset.

Well, this seems like a great place for a sunset, but what about further up the road? And what road might this be? We are in Yosemite National Park, having come in via the east entrance.

Lembert Dome in Tuolumne Meadows is almost the perfect place for sunset.

And then we find THE perfect place with the perfect light on a perfect day right smack dab here where we are in the meadow.

Tenaya Lake is where we’ll snap the last photos of the day before heading back down the eastern side of Yosemite. This is an alpine lake with a surface elevation of 8,150 feet (2,484 meters), which is probably the highest body of water Caroline has ever stood in. If you are wondering about the temperature of the water, she let me know it was cold, really cold.